


Methods of Communication

by Clea2011



Category: Primeval
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 13:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clea2011/pseuds/Clea2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor just doesn't get why Ryan keeps winking at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Methods of Communication

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fififolle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fififolle/gifts).



> Birthday fic for Fififolle who requested Connor/Ryan - anything with Ryan winking at Connor.

# Methods of Communication

 

The first time it happened, Connor thought Ryan had something in his eye.

He must have done, because if he hadn't then he was winking.  That very macho, very non-geeky soldier was winking at Connor.  So of course, that couldn't be happening and Captain Ryan obviously had something in his eye.  Connor huddled down in the back seat of the truck, and tried not to look up at the back of Ryan's head too often.  Because he was sure the captain was watching him in the rear view mirror with a little smirk on his face.

He hoped rather than believed Ryan wasn't laughing at him.  That wouldn't be fair. 

Connor turned towards the window and resolutely watched the hedgerows racing past in a green blur.  He didn't look back at Ryan once for the rest of the journey.

The second time it happened they were out in the field and Connor had tripped over his own feet in his hurry to scramble across to Professor Cutter and show him his latest findings.  He'd dropped his laptop, covered his jeans in mud, and to add insult to injury the anomaly had closed and he'd never be able to prove if he was right about it or not.

Most of the special forces team were laughing at him quite openly.  Well, he supposed, that was nothing new.  One of them came over and offered him a hand up.  Connor gazed miserably at the black boots in front of him, not wanting to look up and see the amusement on the man's face.

"I can manage," he muttered and scrambled to his feet.

Captain Ryan, because of course it was him just to add to Connor's mortification, bent over and picked up the laptop then handed it to him.  "I can see that," he said.  And there it was again, another wink.

Connor trudged miserably back to the truck to find a towel or something to clean off the mud.  It was awful, because he knew Ryan was teasing him now and he knew the probable reason.  Connor thought he'd been discreet, thought nobody would notice his massive crush on the special forces captain but evidently somebody had and they'd told Ryan.

He knew he didn't stand a chance.  If Ryan went for men at all, and Connor was fairly sure he didn't, it was bound to be muscular soldier types like himself or someone handsome and alluring.  Connor knew he didn't fit into either category.  But Ryan was always nice to him, or had been up until now, and Connor had allowed himself to daydream about the soldier.  Because he was definitely Connor's type, or what Connor would like to have as his type given half a chance.

Obviously one of the soldiers had noticed Connor's interest and alerted Ryan, and now they were all laughing at him.  He'd thought Ryan would be better than that, but he probably had to keep up appearances in front of his men, and generally in Connor's experience any tough guy who wanted to save face in front of other tough guys did so by making fun of someone like Connor.

There were not only a couple of towels, but also some spare pairs of combat trousers in the back of the truck so he took a pair of those and just dumped his muddy jeans in a messy heap.  The trousers were far too big and he searched around for something he could use as a belt.  Having the waistband halfway down your bum might be a great fashion statement, but it could be the death of him if a raptor came bursting through an anomaly and he had to run for it.

"Lost something?"

Ryan again.  The captain had sneaked up on him quietly and was leaning on the truck door.  Connor was suddenly very aware of just how far the borrowed trousers had slipped down, and quickly tugged them back up again.

"Just looking for a belt."

"Good luck!"  Ryan gave him a little half-smile, then reached into the truck and retrieved a length of cord.  "Our menswear range is a bit limited.  Will this do?"

Connor took the cord and muttered his thanks.  Ryan didn't immediately leave though, he was still leaning against the door.

"Need a hand?"

"I'm fine."  Connor was struggling a little bit with the cord but he wasn't going to let Ryan know that.

"Okay.  Nice boxers!"

And there it was again, another wink and a grin just before Ryan turned away.

Connor felt mortified.  They were red boxers with the Superman logo emblazoned across them.  Not the sort of thing someone like Ryan would think was nice at all.  He was being mocked, he was sure of it.

Picking up his laptop, he stomped off to sit in the other truck and wait quietly for the team to finish up so that they could all go home.  He hoped Ryan would choose to drive the other truck back.

No such luck.  Ryan, Abby and Claudia all piled into his truck about twenty minutes later.  Apparently Stephen and Cutter were having some long and tedious scientific debate about the little creatures that had come through the anomaly, and how their appearance was a marked divergence from everything they'd ever known about them from fossils. 

"If I had to listen to any more of that I think I'd have started to turn into a fossil myself!" Claudia complained, and the other two laughed.

Connor thought that he might have liked to join in with that discussion, it sounded quite interesting.  But Ryan had already started up the truck.

"Seat belt, Connor," he called over his shoulder as they headed down the rough farm track towards the main road. 

It was always a good idea if any of the special forces team were driving so Connor belted up without any protest.  But then he made the mistake of looking in the rear view mirror and there was Ryan watching him. 

"Good lad."  And then he did it again, winked and grinned at Connor.

Abby wasn't wearing a seat belt, but apparently that was okay.  She was leaning forward, chatting to Claudia about some show they were thinking of going to see together.  Connor leaned back in his seat and resigned himself to another long journey spent staring out of the window.  He seemed to be doing more and more of that. 

He must have drifted off, because before he knew it the truck was stopping and Abby and Claudia were getting out.  Connor looked around blearily, not recognising the street.

"I'll see you later, Connor!" Abby called.  She was already out on the street, shutting the door.

"But..."

"Don't worry, I'll take you home," Ryan assured him. 

_Oh God!_ Connor thought.   That was the first and last thing he wanted.  Ryan was probably going to spend the whole time making fun of him.  Worse, what if he'd talked in his sleep?  Or snored?  Or drooled?  Or all three?

"Where's Abby going?" he asked.  It was the only thing he could think of and it came out far too high-pitched and panicky. 

"There's some film they want to see, they asked to be dropped off.  Honestly, you were better off asleep, I had to listen to them going on about the bloke in it and how fit he was."

"Really?  Claudia?"  Connor found that a little hard to believe.

"Mostly Abby, but yeah, Claudia wasn't disagreeing with her." 

That surprising snippet of information tucked away, Connor immediately went back to worrying what he might have done when he was asleep.  He surreptitiously wiped his mouth, and was relieved to find he hadn't drooled.  One down, two to go. 

"Hope I didn't snore."

"No.  Why don't you sit up front for the rest of the journey?"

There was a very good reason why.  It was largely that Ryan would be sitting up there too, able to wink and tease and... _he'd done it again!_  

"I'm fine here, thanks," Connor muttered.  He tried to shrink down into the seat.  Ryan's smile faded a little, and he started up the engine again.

For a while they drove along in silence.  Perhaps they would have made the whole journey without speaking further if it weren't for the traffic.

There had been some sort of breakdown and they were stuck in a massive tailback.  Ryan cursed, tried to reverse and found himself trapped, then just turned off the engine.

"Looks like we'll be here a while," he commented.

"Yeah."  Connor couldn't really think of anything else to say. 

There was another long silence, then Ryan stated: "You don't like me much, do you." 

It wasn't a question, and it came right out of the blue.  Connor stared at the back of Ryan's head, wondering where that had come from.  He liked Ryan plenty, in all the ways he shouldn't.  He thought Ryan had realised that, unless somehow his statement was another tease.

Ryan, apparently, took his silence as confirmation.   "Right.  So what is it?  I know it's not that you're homophobic, because you can't be, can you?  Not with the whole being gay as well thing going for you.  So it's personal.  That's fine, but you know wherever I've worked I've found that if you're part of a minority then it's best to stick together or at least try to get along with each other."

Connor was still reeling a little from the early revelation in that speech, staring at Ryan, mouth dropping open.  Then his brain caught up and he realised he was being told off by the very tough and scary head of security, who was looking at him via the rear view mirror with a rather intimidating expression on his face.  He gave a little gulp, and looked down at his laptop, face flaming.

"Sorry," he muttered.  "I... didn't realise.  Sorry."

Ryan's voice was gentler when he spoke again.  "Thought I was being obvious enough.  Come on, sit up front, I don't want to talk to your reflection and I'll get a crick neck if I keep turning round."

Connor fumbled his way out of the seatbelt and opened the door without much more than a cursory glance for pedestrians, nearly knocking out a cyclist who was racing along the pavement to avoid the traffic jam in the process.

"Sorry, sorry," Connor repeated, scrambling into the front seat.

"You really are a disaster area," Ryan told him, but the soldier was smiling gently and Connor didn't worry too much about it being a criticism.  After all, he'd heard far worse.  The cyclist was being less kind, but Ryan wound down the window and leaned out to shout at him about the pavement not being a road and to expect what he got if he treated it like one, and that seemed to stop any further abuse.  In fact, the cyclist sped off (still on the pavement) very quickly, surprising a couple of shoppers who were walking along quite innocently.

"Thanks," Connor grinned.

"No problem," Ryan smiled back at him, then leaned across to open the glove compartment.  Connor gazed at the large hand that was almost in his lap, and tried not to let his imagination wander too much.  "Here."

He had brought out a Mars bar and was offering Connor half.  Connor took the sticky chocolate gratefully.  It had been a long time since lunch.

"Like I said, we could be stuck here for a while.  I might send you out to that coffee shop over there if it gets any colder!"

"You... wouldn't drive off and leave me?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow.  "What?  Of course not.  Why would you think that?  Come on, Connor, what did I do to upset you?"

"Well..."

"Out with it."  Connor realised he must have looked worried at that because Ryan grinned at him and added: "You just had half my Mars bar, I don't share those with just anyone!"

Connor blushed.  It sounded a bit silly now.  "You kept winking at me."

Ryan blinked, obviously not expecting that.  "Winking?"

"I thought you were making fun of me."

"Because I was winking at you?  Seriously?"

"Yes," Connor admitted in a small voice.  It did seem a bit foolish now. 

The road ahead was starting to clear, and someone with an obvious death wish honked their horn at Ryan who shot them the finger then started up the truck.

"Con, why would _you_ wink at someone?" Ryan asked. 

 "I wouldn't."

"Not a winker, huh?"   Connor didn't laugh at that, and Ryan frowned.  "You know, there are only a few reasons why I'd do that?"

"Because it was a joke I was supposed to be in on?" Connor asked hopefully.

"That'd be one.  Not the right one.  Try again."

The road had cleared quickly and they were moving along nicely.  They'd be at Abby's in a few minutes.  Connor wasn't sure he wanted to arrive, another traffic jam wouldn't go amiss.  He could only think of one other reason and that would be because you fancied someone and... _oh._

His realisation must have shown in his face, because Ryan laughed, winked at him again, then took a left turn into a side road that was a short cut to Abby's place. 

"Got it?"

Connor nodded.   He didn't quite trust himself to speak.

"You okay with that?"

Connor was a lot more than okay with it.  He did seem to have lost the power of speech though.  He nodded again, probably a little too enthusiastically and he could feel a big grin stretching across his face. 

And then, far too soon, they'd pulled up outside Abby's flat.  Ryan parked the truck, then leaned across Connor, putting his hand over the door handle. 

Connor gulped.  Ryan was leaning very, very close.  He smelled of gun oil, and very, very faintly of whatever aftershave he'd used that morning.

"Just so we're clear, and there aren't any misunderstandings..." 

And he captured Connor's mouth in a deep, tongue-duelling kiss that left the young scientist breathless.  

Ryan wasn't a man to waste any time, evidently. 

"We okay now?" he asked, grinning down at Connor.

Connor's first instinct was to agree that yes, thank you very much he was absolutely fine and good and he'd take five of those to go, thank you.  He matched Ryan's grin with one of his own.

"No."  He watched Ryan's over-confident smile slip, just slightly, then added: "I think you need to do that again, just to make sure.  Maybe inside?"  And then he winked at him. 

Ryan laughed, and Connor was completely certain now that he most definitely wasn't being made fun of.  And then, as requested, the soldier made sure.  Absolutely sure.  Several times.

Connor let them into the flat some while later.  He hoped that whichever film the girls had gone to see was a very, very long one...

\---


End file.
